


Doctor's Orders

by kronette



Series: Doctor's Orders [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Love Triangles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 03:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A love triangle -- or at least a lust-triangle.</p><p>Both Garak and O'Brien turned their shocked gazes to the doctor.  Julian started pacing around them again.  "I don't know who to be angrier at.  You," he glared at O'Brien, "Or you," his gaze switched to the tailor.  "But right now, I don't want to see either of you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor's Orders

**Author's Note:**

> Possibly posted February 1996 under my real name (What was I thinking, seriously!?)

"Julian!"

Doctor Julian Bashir cringed as he heard the rolling Irish accent calling his name. Putting on a cheerful grin, he turned to the curly-haired man swiftly approaching. "Chief. How are you?"

Chief of Operations Miles O'Brien puffed his way over to the lanky medical officer, matching his longer steps. "Fine. Say, I was wondering if you'd be interested in going kayaking with me tonight. I finally worked out that last curve..."

"I'm sorry Chief," Julian interrupted him. "I have a lot of work to do tonight."

O'Brien was a bit put off, but his jovial attitude refused to buckle. "Well, how about tomorrow? I believe you have the afternoon free, since that Betazoid transport left this morning."

Bashir stared at his friend, eyes widening slightly. "And what makes you think I was interested in anyone on that transport?"

O'Brien missed the warning note creeping into Bashir's voice. "Oh, just the eye contact you were making at their First Officer, is all. She seemed nice enough."

"She is. She is also a friend of my sister," Bashir informed him carefully.

O'Brien licked his lips. "Oh. Sorry. Didn't mean to imply that you would..."

"I know you didn't Chief," Bashir sighed, resigned. They had reached the Infirmary.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Holosuite II?" O'Brien prodded one last time.

Taking a quick breath, Bashir nodded. "About 1200?"

O'Brien's grin nearly cracked his face. "Twelve-hundred it is." He practically bounced off down the hall, leaving Julian leaning his head wearily against the Infirmary doorframe.

"Why me? Why tomorrow?" he muttered.

"Doctor, is anything the matter?"

The polite tone and quiet demeanor could only be one person. "Garak." Bashir looked up and smiled. "No, nothing important anyway. What are you doing about this time of night?"

Garak's infallible smile appeared. "I was just out for a stroll, and happened by. You seemed to be in some - distress." His concern showed in his pale blue eyes, contrasted by his lighthearted speech.

"Everything is fine, Garak. I was just ... thinking about tomorrow." Bashir sighed.

"Tomorrow?" Garak inquired, his eyeridges raising slightly.

"The Chief asked me to go kayaking with him."

A flicker of confusion passed across Garak's Cardassian features. "Kayaking? Doesn't he normally do that with the Constable?"

"He does," Bashir confirmed, "But Odo's been busy with security for the Ambassadorial meeting next week. He hasn't had time, and with Keiko not due back for another two months..."

The dismayed look on the young doctor's face tugged at something inside Garak. "Doctor, couldn't you just cancel? Say you had a medical emergency or something?"

Bashir's brown eyes snapped with irritation. "Lying is what you're good at, Garak. Not me."

"Ah, but Doctor, I have seen you lie on occasion..."

Bashir interrupted forcefully, "To help a patient. I won't be helping the Chief if I lie my way out of this. And I don't want to..." Bashir's voice faded into nothing. "I owe it to him."

Garak frowned in confusion. "How do you 'owe him', Doctor? It's just a kayaking holoprogram."

Bashir's head dropped slightly, his gaze on the floor. "It's more than that to him. And that makes it more to me as well."

Garak could sense more going on than Bashir was telling. "I don't know if I follow you, Doctor, but I'll leave it alone. You've obviously made up your mind that you will attend."

"I guess I have," Bashir said quietly. "Good night, Garak."

"Good night Doctor. And do be careful," he added with his customary smile.

Bashir's answering one was wry. "I'll try not to break anything important."

***

Bashir stepped into Quark's, looking around for O'Brien. He didn't have to look for long. O'Brien came at him from the bar, dodging moving bodies as he did so.

"Julian! Glad you could make it. I've got it all arranged with Quark. We'll have the 'Suite for an hour, just enough time..."

Bashir held up his hand, laughing. "Chief...Chief...CHIEF!" he succeeded in interrupting him.

"What?" O'Brien asked innocently.

Bashir's smile was genuine. "Let's just go if we only have an hour. You don't want to spend it out here,  _talking_ about it, do you?"

O'Brien laughed a bit sheepishly. "Let's go then." They walked up the curved steps to the Holosuites, pausing outside the door to Holosuite II. O'Brien punched the code and the door opened. The sound of rushing water, loud and vicious, filled their ears.

"Ah, smell that air!" O'Brien took a lungful.

Bashir resisted the urge to laugh. Holosuite-filtered air was still holosuite air. "Chief, where's the gear?" he asked instead.

"Hm?" O'Brien glanced around. "Ah, over there." He started toward the large rock on which set life jackets, paddles, and helmets. Bobbing in the water behind the rock were two kayaks.

"They look awfully -- small," Bashir worried his lower lip between his teeth as he studied the kayaks.

"Bah," scoffed O'Brien. "They're perfect. You'll just have to tuck your legs up a bit, but you'll fit just fine. Hey, I just realized, we didn't bring a change of clothes."

"Order some," Bashir said distractedly, as he picked up a lifejacket and studied it. "This is supposed to keep me afloat?"

O'Brien came up behind him. "It sure will. It's what my father used, and his father, for generations. You pull the string here --" he pointed, "and it inflates."

Bashir was intent on checking the floatation device. "Seems simple enough. But how does it go on --" he turned around, still studying the strange shape, and didn't notice the Chief's flushed face until he glanced up.

"Chief? What's wrong?" he asked worriedly, his doctoring instincts coming to the forefront.

"No-nothing Julian," O'Brien stuttered. "Here, let me help you put this on." He reached for the lifejacket, but Bashir held fast. "Julian, let go."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," came the quiet answer.

O'Brien slowly met the wide, concerned gaze of Julian. "Julian, please, let's just drop it." He made a half-hearted attempt to pull the lifejacket out of Bashir's hands, but the doctor's grip was strong.

"Miles."

Damn him! Damn his concern. Damn his insight! "Julian, please just  _drop it_ ," O'Brien demanded.

"It's about Keiko, isn't it?" Bashir whispered.

Keiko! Oh, just her name made his heart twist with longing. He loved her, body and soul. He wanted her, not just her physically, but mentally, her voice, her touch, her scent. Then why...

"Yes, it's about Keiko," O'Brien admitted.  _But not just Keiko_.

"It's perfectly understandable, Chief. You've been apart for a long time. Maybe you should visit her, see how she's doing. It might ease the pain a bit," Bashir added softly.

 _I know a faster, more convenient way to ease the pain, but_ how _could I? I mean, this is_ Julian _. And I'm_ married. "Good idea. Maybe I will. Can we just go kayaking now?" O'Brien asked in a rush, yanking the lifejacket out of Bashir's hands and quickly tugging it over the mop of brown hair.

His hands were nearly behind Bashir's neck. His eyes were locked on Bashir's wide, startled ones. His breathing quickened. "Julian..." O'Brien whispered, "Damn it, Julian." His hands slid behind the thin shoulders, pulling him closer.

"Miles?" Bashir croaked.

"Dammit Julian, I - I love Keiko. I do. I love her with all my heart and soul. But I - want you."

Bashir's eyes widened further. "Chief, do you have any idea what you're saying?" he asked incredulously.

"No. How can I still love her and have -  _that_ \- for you?"

"Chief, you don't have anything for me," Bashir insisted. "This is classic transference. You're transferring your affection and need for closeness onto someone who is close to you. Someone within easy access. Me." He spoke quickly, almost hurriedly, trying to convince O'Brien to let him go... before he saw how much _he_ craved the closeness.

"But what do I  _do_ about it?" O'Brien demanded as he pulled Bashir even closer, nuzzling his neck.

Bashir fought a wave of dizziness as sensation flooded his body. "Visit Keiko. Go to Bajor. Surprise her." A moan flew from his parted lips. "Oh god, right there..."

"Julian what are we doing?" O'Brien panted as he started kissing along the slender neck.

"I don't know. And I don't care," Bashir whispered back, running his hands up the engineer's broad back. His hands tangled in the blonde-brown curls and pulled his head up. Looking Miles in the eye, Julian admitted in a whisper, "Miles, I haven't been intimate with anyone since Melora. I haven't touched..." his hands caressed the round face in front of him, "or felt a heartbeat so close to mine in so long..." his eyes half-closed, and he started to lean toward him, then stopped.

Closing his eyes, he whispered, "I can't. You're married, Miles, and I won't - I  _can't_ -"

"I know Julian," O'Brien whispered, smoothing back the younger man's hair. "I can't break my vows. I don't want to. I love her too much."

"I know. You visit Bajor. I'll - run a different holosuite program, I guess," Bashir added ruefully. "Go on, get out of here. Before something does happen."

"You're a good friend, Julian Bashir." O'Brien risked a quick hug, savoring the feeling of someone in his arms finally.

Julian returned the embrace, etching into his memory the feel, the scent, the touch of someone else. "Go Miles."

They both turned at the sound of the holosuite door opening, jumping apart guiltily.

"What the..." Garak stopped short, staring at the two men. His eyes darted between them, his brain unable to reconcile the image his eyes relayed.

"Garak...?" Julian glanced guiltily at O'Brien, who was staring hard at the tailor.

"How did you get in here? That door was locked!" O'Brien growled.

"What?" Julian turned wide eyes to the Irishman.

O'Brien shot him a sideways glance. "I wanted to make sure we weren't disturbed," he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

"Miles, you  _planned this_?" Julian stared, jaw agape, at the Chief.

"I'd say he did," Garak interjected, stepping further into the 'Suite. The door rolled shut behind him.

"It wasn't intentional," Miles protested, though it fell on deaf ears.

"Garak, just how the hell did you get in here?" Julian asked, now staring hard at the tailor.

Garak shot him a glare. "Stay out of this, doctor." He looked to O'Brien, eyes glowering. "I'm curious Chief. Would you have eventually told our lovely doctor the truth, or would you continue to let him believe all this happened by mere accident?"

"It's none of your damned business," O'Brien hissed, stepping closer to the Cardassian.

Garak continued as if O'Brien hadn't spoken. "You're a married man. What would your wife think of your cheating on her?"

O'Brien moved forward threateningly. "Why you nosy tailor..."

"Garak, Miles, stop this!" Julian shouted, moving between them. He locked gazes with the tailor, refusing to let him look away. "What are you doing here, Garak?"

Garak drew himself up to his full height, his eyes hard as he addressed the younger man. "I wanted to make sure you were all right, doctor. Nothing more."

"Like bloody hell it wasn't nothing more. You're jealous!" O'Brien leaned into Julian's back, trying to get closer to the Cardassian. Julian pushed him back.

"Miles," he growled, startling the engineer.

"Julian, don't tell me you  _believe_ this spy!" he said incredulously.

"At least he's showing some sense," Garak tossed back, eyes widening slightly at O'Brien over Julian's shoulder.

"Enough!" Julian pushed out from both of them, anger glittering in his toffee-colored eyes. He stomped around them both, furious. "You," he spun on O'Brien, "Did you plan this?"

O'Brien quickly looked at the floor. "Well, I had an idea you might ... and it seemed the perfect..."

Julian held up his hand. "That's all I need to know. As for you," he directed his gaze at his luncheon companion, "Why are you here, and how did you get inside?"

Garak took the mortally offended stance. "It was as I stated before, doctor. I was merely looking out for your well being."

"Bull." Both Garak and O'Brien turned their shocked gazes to the doctor. Julian started pacing around them again. "I don't know who to be angrier at. You," he glared at O'Brien, "or you," his gaze switched to the tailor. "But right now, I don't want to see either of you. Could you both leave?"

"Julian, I'm sorry," O'Brien offered. "If I presumed too much, I really am sorry. You know how it is. You know how I felt, how I feel."

"I know," Julian answered quietly. "And I understand. But you can't use me as an outlet for your frustration over Keiko, Miles."

O'Brien hung his head. "I think it finally sunk in, Julian. I'll see you later, okay? Maybe a game of darts later on?"

A ghost of a smile flickered across the doctor's features. "Maybe," he answered noncommittally.

With a nod at Julian and one last glare at Garak, O'Brien exited the 'Suite.

Julian watched him leave; Garak watched the doctor. He spoke when he heard the door close. "What did you mean, 'an outlet for your frustration?'" the tailor asked, his voice veiled.

Julian shifted his eyes to the tailor, still angry, still hard. "Since you find my life so interesting, and my activities so intriguing, why don't you tell me? You seem to know everything else about me." His tone was biting, sarcastic.

Garak felt his insides twist, but didn't let it show. " _I_ wasn't the one caught in a holosuite about ready to commit adultery!"

"What??" Julian shouted. "How  _dare_ you judge me!" He got in the tailor's face, his outrage causing Garak to back up a few steps. Julian was right there, moving forward. "You have no  _right_ to judge me! You aren't my keeper; and you sure as hell aren't my conscience!"

Garak stopped short, pulling himself upright. "Well, since  _your_ conscience apparently decided to take a vacation, I felt  _someone_ had to..."

"No!" Julian poked the tailor in the chest with a finger. " _You_ don't decide how to live  _my_ life for me. You have no right!"

"It  _is_ my right!" Garak shouted, his eyes snapping furiously. "Dammit doctor, don't you get it yet?"

"Get what?" Julian fumed, crossing his arms defiantly.

Garak's entire demeanor changed. He dropped his posturing, his anger. He physically deflated in front of the doctor's eyes. "You still can't see it, can you Julian?" he murmured, his azure eyes now infinitely sad.

"See what?" Julian asked, with less hostility. He was growing concerned at the tailor's abrupt change of attitude.

"How I feel about you," Garak murmured, plainly and simply. But those plain and simple words had a profound effect on the young doctor.

Julian's breath caught; he forgot to breathe. His eyes reflected back into himself, remembering, putting things together, drawing conclusions. His arms dropped to his sides, he felt his knees weakening. "Garak...?" he said quietly, raising his questioning eyes to the man in front of him.

"Yes, my dear doctor," the Cardassian confirmed for him. His arms shot out to steady the shaky young man in front of him.

Julian went limp in his arms. Garak pulled him against him, lest he fall to the hard ground.

"Garak," Julian said again, this time a bit more sure, a bit steadier.

"Yes, doctor," Garak whispered again, brushing a hand along the sharp face.

"Computer, run Bashir 152, authorization Subatoi alpha omega Risa IV." The scenery changed around them, from the majestic outdoor setting to a lush indoor bedroom with giggling in the background. Wispy white curtains surrounded a king size bed.

"Doctor...?" Garak's tone was wary, but also curious.

Julian raised his head to stare into his azure eyes. "Garak, how long have you felt this way about me?"

"Why, I..." Garak stumbled for an answer.

"Please, Garak, this is important to me," Julian pleaded.

The tailor looked into those trusting brown eyes and decided a lie wouldn't do in this situation. Only the truth. Taking a deep breath, he began. "I know it sounds trite, and very cliche, but -- from the first moment I saw you, doctor." Garak smiled tenderly. "It was the day before I met you in the Replimat. You were coming out of the Infirmary at the end of your shift, exhausted. You could barely walk straight, you were so tired. Yet, you came across this Bajoran family with a young boy. He had taken a fall, I believe. Anyway, he was mildly injured, but the parents were worried nonetheless. You took them back into the Infirmary and checked him out. You could have just sent them there, had your nurse look at him, but you had to do it. Despite your exhaustion, you had to assure yourself he was all right."

"I remember that," Julian said softly, fondly. "He had a slight cut on his forearm, which I healed easily. The parents were very grateful; they had seen so much hurt, so much death, than any injury to their only son drove them crazy." He was silent a minute, then, "That's when you fell in love with me?" he asked quietly.

Garak caught his breath. "I - think I did."

Smiling coyly, Julian drew back. "Well, _I_ was so taken by your advance on me the day after that, that I went and blabbed to the entire OPS crew, including Commander Sisko, that the 'spy' had just made contact with me, and wondered what he wanted with me. Truthfully, I was so surprised, so incited, so  _happy_ that you had sought me out, that I had to tell someone  _something_. I couldn't quite come out and say, 'Yes, the tailor just talked to me, and I think he likes me.'"

Garak chuckled. "Why not?"

Julian sobered. "For the same reason you couldn't. For fear of rejection. For fear that I wouldn't reciprocate those feelings."

"But do you?"

"I do." Julian traced an eyeridge with a fingertip. "I think one of the reasons I didn't say anything was because I was afraid of losing our friendship."

Garak held the younger man tighter against his solid bulk. "I value our friendship too, doctor. After all we've been through, I think we'll manage to pull through."

"Do you honestly think so?" Julian lightly kissed the tailor. "Even with this drastic a change to our lives?"

"It's not such a drastic change, doctor," Garak murmured, nuzzling the slender neck offered him. "We'll still meet for lunch, still discuss our differences, our culture, other cultures. We're just taking it a step further." Garak started walking them backwards, towards the big bed.

"I'd say we're taking a step backwards," Julian replied cheekily, his eyes sparkling at the Cardassian.

"Mm, indeed," Garak agreed, reaching the bed and gently pushing Julian down on it. He traced the delicate face in front of him, feeling Julian's heartbeat against his own. "Julian..." he whispered.

"Yes, E-Elim," Julian answered shakily, afraid of what memories that name would dredge up. He didn't have to worry long.

"My dear Julian, how did you know?" Garak whispered as he nipped along the doctor's neck, up to his ear, pausing to nibble on the lobe.

"You have your sources, I have mine," Julian managed to taunt, despite his racing pulse; his labored breathing. "Why, I bet I have as many secrets as you do..." he gasped as Garak's questing fingers found the fastening of his uniform and slipped inside, his cool hands meeting the doctor's flushed, hot skin.

"In that case, we have a lot of ground to cover," Garak teased, covering those full lips with his own.

***

"Commander, I'd like to request a leave." O'Brien stood in Sisko's office, having made his way directly there from the holosuite.

"Is this very important?" Sisko asked, studying his Chief Engineer closely. "We really need you here, with all the preparations for security...'

"Sir," O'Brien interrupted, "This is very important." Seeing that Sisko didn't look convinced, and he was growing desperate, he lied, "Doctor's orders."

"Bashir ordered this?" Sisko looked skeptical.

"Yes sir," O'Brien said firmly, praying that Sisko wouldn't call him on his bluff.

No such luck today. Sisko tapped his commbadge. "Sisko to Bashir."

"I believe he was in a holosuite, sir," O'Brien cut in, hoping that would put the commander off. No such luck.

"Sisko to Bashir. Doctor, please answer."

A very breathless voice answered, "Bashir here."

Sisko folded his hands in front of him. "Doctor, did you authorize Chief O'Brien's leave of absence?"

"Yes," Bashir answered, a bit huskily. O'Brien shifted uncomfortably.

"Is there a medical reason for it?" Sisko inquired.

"Oh, yes," Bashir answered again, this time a bit strained. O'Brien began to look flushed.

"Doctor, are _you_ all right?" Sisko asked with concern.

"Ooh, I'm fine commander. O'Brien needs at least four days off, per my orders. Bashir out."

Sisko stared at his chief of operations, who was anxiously shifting his stance. "Well commander?" he asked, his voice nearly as desperate as Bashir's had been.

Sisko allowed a small smile. "Go to Bajor, Chief. I think the strain is just about to snap you in two."

"Thank you sir," O'Brien gushed before he bolted out the door. Sisko smiled to himself.

"Well doctor, I wish I could get orders like that," he whispered to himself, letting his thoughts drift to Dariellah, back on Earth.

The End


End file.
